Waiting
by teharrell
Summary: Just a few moments before she leaves.


Notes: I own nothing. Just for fun.

He felt the pain as soon as he stepped onto the stone terrace. The late afternoon sun showered a golden hue on the green hills and valleys surrounding the castle. Carefully chosen, this place offered a shadowy seclusion. Silently he crossed to the railing and sidled up beside his friend. Having to introduce her as his FRIEND rubbed raw every nerve that he possessed. He had come to despise that word as it applied to her, it seemed impious. There was history between them, nearly ten years worth. There were times that the rapture itself couldn't make the two of them more joyful. Other times anger threatened to destroy their relationship and themselves. Each event had deepened the feelings they shared and strengthened the tapestry of their lives. "Tell me," was all he needed to say.

She began pulling her thoughts from the swirling mass of emotions surrounding her heart. It was no easy task, but did show the maturity she had gained in the three years since he had been sent on this assignment . She began the speak slowly and quietly as she turned to him, "I have been here six months. I have lost my job and my home during my recovery from the shooting." She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders, " I have no idea what I'm going back to. All I have is a ride." She had to stop here and take a steadying breath knowing very well he has no patience for hysterics and melodrama.

He winced as he remembered the covert attack on the city and castle that nearly cost him so much. "I have seen and done things I didn't think possible," she continued weakly. "I have made friends." Another breath, this one more ragged. She closed her eyes trying to will away the tears. The silvery gleam slowly traced the curve of her cheek. Damn. He cradled her face with his left hand swiping away the tear with his thumb. Nuzzling into his palm gave her the courage to look into his eyes and whisper, "I don't wanna go."

He had said to her early in their relationship that he thought tears were the ultimate tools for manipulation. He knew she cried although not in front of him. She preferred to do that on her own. He respected that. This small tear cut him more deeply than any blade could have because it was given honestly and and most unwillingly. He was put in the difficult position of wanting to do something but not knowing what that something is. There was a burning need to fix this. He stood motionless for what seemed like an eternity looking into the face of the person he wanted in his life the most.

He bent down and brushed her lips with his. His kiss was tentative and soft as if he were afraid. In that moment the world melted away leaving only her scent, her touch, her warmth. There was no resistance from her and he deepened the kiss. Then the dam holding his emotions back shattered. He loved her. He was in love with her. He kissed her ravenously and needfully. He had kissed her before, the kiss of a teenage Casanova. They were each other's first love, each other's first time. And she returned his kiss with equal want. His right hand rested on her hip to steady her as she reached up to meet his passion. Only their bodies screaming for oxygen pried them apart. They were panting in unison and he rested his forehead against hers. "Don't go," he breathed on her cheek.

These past months of being "just friends" were the most difficult to endure. Maintaining that tension laced "safe" distance all the time wanting more. She loved him. She was in love with him. She looked up into his hazel eyes with a slight smile on her face. Their lips still only inches apart. She did not care who may be watching, it was evident they did not trust easily. He had stood the castle guard down on her behalf many times. She placed her right arm inside that well worn leather jacket and the other slid to encircle his neck and tangled her fingers in his auburn hair. She moved toward him to touch as much of his body as she could. He felt so good against her. Moving his hands to capture her shoulders and waist their lips came together again not in the heat of lust, but in realization of finding a soulmate. Tenderness and deep love sparked this kiss holding it until they could no longer. He had pulled away from her face only slightly when he quietly murmured, "Marry me."

First came the absolute shock of those two little words. Their meaning followed a moment later. It took just enough time that concern began to flash over his face. The delay was excruciating. Maybe he had made a mistake. No one expected this from him, obviously she didn't. With a gaze so intense it locked out the approach of four others she breathlessly whispered, "Yes."


End file.
